Some close friends of ours while growing up, the Hattendorfs, live on a farm. It was one of my favorite places to play when I was a child; climbing around in the hayloft, hunting for eggs, and running through the cornfield. Every fall we used to come out to help them harvest the pumpkins that they sell for Luke and Matt's college fund. I remember so many crisp, cloudy afternoons, riding the tractor-pulled flatbed out into the pumpkin patch, nose runny from the cold, mittened hands heaving the the pumpkins onto the trailer. I haven't been out there for years, and it felt good to be back in the golden hour sun, and to see Indy marvel at the running chickens and the field full of orange.
Hand holding cousins.
This tractor is from 1958. . .
There were many chickens to chase. . .
. . . and treasures to be found. We left with a couple of fresh eggs and an appropriately sized pumpkin for each of us, and plenty of good farmy feelings to last us a little while.